


I Hardly Know

by smoochfestmod



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2014-06-17
Packaged: 2018-02-05 01:30:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1800490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smoochfestmod/pseuds/smoochfestmod
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter does not like Draco Malfoy. At least that's what he tells himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Hardly Know

**Author's Note:**

> This submission is part of HD Smoochfest on Livejournal. The theme this year is Media Remix, which invited participants to "remix" the story from a Book, Movie, Television Show. The author/artist will be revealed at the end of the fest.
> 
> This was created for Prompt Number: M102  
> Original Work Name: Pride and Prejudice (2005)
> 
> Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Author's Notes: I love this movie version! It most probably has to do with the fact that I have a thing for Matthew MacFadyen, and as soon as I saw your prompt I knew I couldn't pass up the opportunity to put a Harry/Draco twist on it. I did however get somewhat carried away, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.  
> Beta'd by the thorough, brilliant and patient incandescent. Any and all remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> The title comes from "It has been coming on so gradually, that I hardly know when it began" in the novel.
> 
> Draco’s letter comes from a combination of the one in the novel. And the one in the film. Most dialogue belongs to Universal Pictures and taken directly from the script. Some bits of dialogue have come from the BBC production's script.

_I have no intention of renewing the sentiments which you found so disgusting. I write with no intention of paining you or humbling myself: I merely wish to address the two allegations you have laid against me.  
  
The first being that I intervened to remove Theodore Nott from the company of your dear friend, Miss Hermione Granger. The other: that I, in defiance of honour and humanity, ruined the immediate marriage prospects of Blaise Zabini.  
  
The motives which governed me in the case of the first accusation may appear insufficient to you, yet they were in the service of a friend. I had not been in Ottery-Saint-Catchpole long before I noticed that Theodore preferred the company of your friend, Miss Granger. However, it was not until the ball that I realised how serious his attachment was.  
  
I have seen him in love before.  
  
It was at that ball that, by Mister Arthur Weasley’s accidental information, Theodore’s attentions had given rise to the general expectation of marriage. I observed their behaviour closely and did not believe Miss Granger’s attachment to be as deep as Theodore's. Her behaviour and manners were as open with Theodore as they were with every man; though she received his attentions with pleasure, there seemed to be little cause to believe that she regarded him with similar sentiment.  
  
Perhaps I was mistaken, as your comments yesterday have made clear. You know your friend far better than I, and it seems that I was misled by her genial nature to make such an error as to inflict pain on her. Here, your resentment is not unreasonable.  
  
In regard to the second, more weighty offence, I can only refute this by laying forth the whole story.  
  
Blaise Zabini and I have been acquainted since infancy. We grew up together and attended the sames schools. His mother has a questionable reputation, but his father was a respectable man who died when Blaise was only a boy. My family took him in, as his mother spent a great deal of time on the Continent.  
  
My father loved Blaise as a second son and gifted him a generous parcel of land and living space. After my father’s death, Blaise demanded the value of the inheritance. All of which he gambled away within weeks.  
  
He wrote asking for more money; I refused. After, he severed all acquaintance with me for many years. Last summer, he came to Malfoy Manor when my cousins Miss Pansy and Mister Patrick Parkinson were visiting; Blaise immediately declared passionate love for her and persuaded her to elope with him.  
  
She is to inherit a large fortune from her father, Lord Parkinson. When it was made clear to him by her brother and I that he would not receive a penny of it, Blaise disappeared. I cannot begin to convey the depths of Pansy’s despair.  
  
She was fifteen-years-old.  
  
You may wonder why I did not mention any of this yesterday during our conversation, but I was not in control of my emotions enough to convey all of this to you. If your disgust of me makes my admissions valueless, then there is nothing more I can do.  
  
I can only hope you read this letter and its contents with a clear mind and weigh each word carefully.  
  
Regards, _  
 _Draco Malfoy_  
  
  
  
Harry put down the letter and sighed heavily. He closed his eyes and let the rocking of the carriage soothe him as he thought back to yesterday afternoon.  
  
 _Malfoy’s hair had darkened in the rain and his cheeks were flushed as he said, “I have struggled in vain and can no longer bear it. These past months have been a torment. I came here only to see you.  
  
“I have fought against my better judgement, my family’s expectations, the inferiority of your birth, my rank.” Malfoy spoke quickly, only pausing to take a breath and move a step closer to Harry. “I will put them aside and ask you to end my agony.”  
  
“I don’t understand,” Harry said.  
  
“I love you,” Malfoy said quickly. “Most ardently. Please do me the honour of accepting my hand.”  
  
Harry didn’t know how to respond; he couldn’t think straight. He kept dwelling on what he’d just been told about Malfoy separating Theodore from Hermione. “Sir,” he started, slightly stiltedly. “I appreciate the emotional struggle you have been through and I am very sorry to have caused you pain. It was unconsciously done.”  
  
Malfoy tilted his head a little as though surprised by Harry’s response. “Is this your reply?”  
  
“Yes, sir.”  
  
“Are you laughing at me?” Malfoy asked in a dangerous tone.  
  
“No.” Harry admitted honestly.  
  
“Are you rejecting me?”  
  
Feeling frustrated with Malfoy and wanting to be left alone, Harry pursed his lips but didn't say anything.  
  
Malfoy’s face had showed little emotion, but as he stepped into Harry’s space his voice betrayed him. “Might I ask why, with so little civility, I am thus repulsed?”  
  
“I might enquire as to why you told me you liked me against your better judgement?” Harry responded fiercely.  
  
“If I was uncivil, then that is some excuse.” Malfoy’s voice was confused.  
  
Harry said loudly, “But you know I have other reasons.”  
  
“What reasons?” Malfoy demanded.  
  
Deciding that Malfoy needed to know exactly how Harry felt, he said, “Do you think anything might tempt me to accept the man who has ruined the happiness of a most beloved friend?”  
  
Harry watched as realisation dawned on Malfoy. He drew himself away from Harry and said nothing. His silence should have been enough confirmation of guilt, but Harry pushed for more. “Do you deny that you separated a young couple who loved each other, exposing your friend to censure for caprice and my friend to derision for disappointed hopes, throwing them both into acute misery?”  
  
“I do not deny it,” Malfoy stated calmly.  
  
“How could you do it?” Harry whispered, full of disbelief and horror at Malfoy’s confirmation.  
  
As Malfoy explained, "I presumed Miss Granger to be indifferent to Theodore. That his attachment was deeper than hers." Harry felt his anger rise as Malfoy continued with, "“It was suggested-”  
  
“What was?” Harry interrupted.  
  
“It was clearly an advantageous marriage for Miss Granger.”  
  
Harry felt hot with anger. “Did Hermione give that impression?”  
  
“No!” Malfoy had said vehemently. “There was, however, your adopted family…”  
  
“Our lack of connection?”  
  
Malfoy was angry, his cheeks flushed. They stood almost chest-to-chest. “No, it was more than that!”  
  
“How so?” Harry ground out.  
  
There was a pause before Malfoy said quickly “The lack of propriety and socially acceptable conduct shown by Missus Weasley, Mister Weasley, and their children.” He panted a little before saying in a quieter voice, “Forgive me, you and Miss Granger I must exclude from this.”  
  
“What about Mister Zabini?” Harry said suddenly, changing topic from his family to the charming man Harry found himself liking.  
  
“Mister Zabini?” Malfoy said, shocked either by the change in topic or by the man’s name.  
  
“What excuse can you give for your behaviour?” Harry asked, wanting to find out more about their past.  
  
Malfoy scowled as he said, “You take an eager interest-”  
  
“He told me of his misfortunes,” Harry said over Malfoy.  
  
“Oh, they have been great,” Malfoy said, sarcasm and disdain dripping from each word.  
  
“You ruin his chances yet treat him with sarcasm,” Harry said angrily.  
  
Malfoy said nothing, his chest heaving as he paused for breath and then he spoke, “So this is your opinion of me? Perhaps these offences might have been overlooked had not your pride-”  
  
Harry interrupted: “My pride!” But Malfoy, for the first time, didn’t stop.  
  
“-been hurt by my scruples about our relationship.”  
  
“Are these the words of a gentleman?” Harry blurted, angry and confused. “Your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain for the feelings of others have made me realise you are the last man in the world I could ever marry.”  
  
Silence reigned as Harry’s words hung in their air between them. Then Malfoy tilted his head towards Harry. His gaze flicked to Harry lips, his breath brushing across Harry’s face as he said, “Forgive me, sir, for taking up so much of your time.”  
  
Malfoy walked away and Harry was left alone as the rain poured down around him._  
  


The carriage jolted, and as Harry bounced heavily on his seat he brought his hand to scrub at his face. The carriage slowed to a stop. He got out, pleased to see he was home, and pushed all thoughts of Malfoy out of his head as he stepped into the home of his adopted parents; Arthur and Molly Weasley. They had taken him and Hermione in and raised the two of them with their own children.  
  
“Harry,” Molly said, her voice frazzled, “Thank goodness you’ve arrived. Hagrid and Maxime have brought Hermione back from London.”  
  
With a smile, Harry asked, "Where is Hermione?"  
  
"In the drawing room." Molly smiled back.  
  
He headed for the drawing room, embracing his best friend as he saw her. Immediately, Hermione launched into her tale. "I took an opportunity to call on Astoria and Daphne Greengrass. They reproached me for not informing them I was in London, which is strange because I'd sent two letters. It was a short visit, they said they were going out and that they'd call on me in a few days." Hermione took a deep breath, and Harry reached out to hold her hand. "It was three weeks before they came. They were out of sorts and made it quite clear they didn't wish to see me."  
  
Harry felt his heart go out to his friend. The Greengrass sisters were cousins of Theodore Nott and had accompanied he and Malfoy to their village. Pushing her hair out of her eyes, Hermione squared her shoulders, "I asked after their cousin and they said he knew I was in town but Theodore was spending his time with Mister Malfoy and his cousin Miss Parkinson." Hermione sat back and said quietly, "I must assume that Theodore Nott does not care for me at all."  
  
Harry wanted more than anything to dispute Hermione's claims. But if he told her that Malfoy had been in Kent and not London, he'd have to tell her about the proposal, and he preferred to keep that quiet. Instead, Harry pulled Hermione in for a brief hug before looking at her intently.  
  
“I’m quite over him,” she said determinedly, nodding her head once. “If he passed me in the street I’d hardly notice. London is so diverting; there’s so much to entertain.” Hermione kept talking and Harry knew her well enough to see that she was trying to convince herself more than him. “What news from Kent?”  
  
“Nothing,” Harry lied.  
  
Suddenly the door burst open and Ron hurried in, his face like thunder as he stomped across the room and flopped onto the sofa. “It’s not fair.”  
  
“Stop makin’ such a fuss,” Hagrid growled as he ducked through the doorway.  
  
“Why didn’t she ask me as well?” Ron whined.  
  
Ginny flounced through the door. “Because I’m better company,” she smirked.  
  
Frowning, Harry turned to Hermione, who quickly said, “Ginny’s been invited to go to Brighton with the Patils.”  
  
Harry felt cold. The Patils were a military family, and their daughters had become friendly with Ginny throughout their stay in Ottery-Saint-Catchpole. Harry knew Blaise Zabini would be there to charm her away from her family. If Ginny was going to Brighton she’d make a fool of herself and of the Weasleys.  
  
It didn’t take Harry long to locate Arthur in his study, getting some peace and quiet. "Sir," Harry began respectfully, so Arthur would pay attention to what he was saying. "Ginny should not go to Brighton. She will be labelled as the silliest, most determined flirt. Our position as a family and our respectability will be brought into question by Ginny's wild behaviour."  
  
Arthur peered at Harry before saying seriously, "Ginny will never be satisfied until she has exposed herself in some public place. Harry, we shall have no peace until she goes."  
  
"Is that all you care about?"  
  
"Colonel Patil is a sensible man. He will keep her out of any real mischief," Arthur answered. "Besides, she's too poor to be an object of prey to anyone."  
  
"It's dangerous," Harry insisted, but he couldn’t change Arthur’s mind without revealing things he shouldn’t or betraying Malfoy’s confidence. Despite disliking the man, Harry wanted to keep the details of Malfoy's and his cousin’s financial dealings with Zabini quiet so they wouldn't become gossip.  
  
"I know you mean well, Harry," Arthur said tiredly. "But I am fairly certain the men will find women better worth their while. Let us hope, in fact, that this trip will teach Ginny of her own insignificance. She can hardly get any worse."  
  
"If she does, you'd be obliged to lock her up for the rest of her life," Harry muttered, unsure if Arthur had heard him. Nothing more was said, and Harry left the room feeling uneasy. He headed for the kitchen where Hagrid, Maxime and Percy were sitting.  
  
“‘Arry, you are welcome to accompany us,” Maxime said.  
  
Harry was about to answer when Percy piped up, “The glories of nature. What are men compared with rocks and mountains?”  
  
Hiding a smile, Harry looked up into Hagrid’s kind, crinkled visage and agreed.  
  
Later that night, he was sitting in the dark with Hermione, catching up privately as they had used to do as kids. Harry finally admitted, “I saw Malfoy.”  
  
“Why did you not tell me?” Hermione asked, then immediately followed it with, “Did he mention Theodore?”  
  
Harry wasn’t surprised that Hermione thought of Theodore, though he was somewhat hurt by her immediate dismissal of his mention of Malfoy. Then again, Harry supposed, his feelings towards Malfoy had changed since his letter and he’d not spoken about it, or its contents, to anyone.  
  
“No,” Harry lied. “He did not.”

 

  
~~*~~

  
  
“Where exactly are we?” Harry asked suddenly.  
  
“Quite close t’ Malfoy Manor,” Hagrid said, pointing in a direction that Harry assumed was where Malfoy Manor was.  
  
Maxime looked to where Hagrid was pointing, though all they could see were trees. “I ‘ave an ‘ankering to see it.”  
  
Wanting to protest but having no sound reason not to, Harry kept quiet as Hagrid guided the horses to Malfoy Manor. It was a short drive, and soon they pulled up in front of the building. Harry looked at it and let out a little guffaw of laughter. He could have been master of this giant, opulent house, and it seemed a tad ridiculous as he stepped out of the carriage before Hagrid and Maxime.  
  
The front doors opened and a small man with large ears and big hazel eyes bowed to them. Maxime inclined her head as she asked, "Are the 'ouse and grounds open for visitors?"  
  
"Indeed they are, Madam. I would be happy to give you and your companions a tour of the house and then the grounds." The man bowed again, "I am Mister Dobby, the house butler."  
  
"Tha' sounds wonderful." Hagrid grinned, taking Maxime's hand as they followed the man inside. Harry had little choice but to follow.  
  
As they walked through the rooms, Harry couldn’t help but look for Malfoy in each of them, trying to associate the house with its owner. When they came into the gallery, the butler Dobby talked them through each piece, but Harry was drawn to one near the end.  
  
He stood before it, staring up into Malfoy’s face. “There he is, Mister Malfoy,” Mister Dobby’s squeaky voice interrupted Harry’s thoughts.  
  
“Is it a true likeness, ‘Arry?” Maxime asked.  
  
“Oh!” Mister Dobby exclaimed excitedly. “Does the young man know Master Malfoy?”  
  
“Only a little,” Harry admitted, thinking of all he didn’t know about Malfoy and all he was beginning to learn about him.  
  
Mister Dobby asked, “Do you not think him a handsome man, sir?”  
  
Harry’s throat felt tight with an unnamed emotion as he confessed, “Yes. I daresay he is.” He kept looking at Malfoy’s handsome face as Mister Dobby spoke in the background about Malfoy’s cousins.  
  
Eventually, Harry forced himself to stop looking at Malfoy and glanced around the gallery. He was surprised to find himself alone. Not knowing where to go, Harry headed back the way he had come, trying to find his way to the front door through the maze of corridors. He soon found himself lost. Harry sighed and was listening to the sounds of the house when he heard the music.  
  
A beautiful piano piece echoed through the corridors. Heading in that direction, Harry peered through an open door to see a pale woman with black hair sitting at the instrument. There was a creak and two men appeared in the doorway behind her: one had black hair and the same pug-like nose as the woman, and the other was Malfoy.  
  
Harry let out a loud gasp and all three looked in his direction. Pushing himself away from the door, Harry rushed through the house. After becoming hopelessly lost, he finally he found himself outside. Judging by the footsteps and the sound of someone calling his name, he had been followed. He slowed to a stop and turned to face Malfoy, his cheeks flaming.  
  
“I thought you were in London,” Harry blurted, remembering what Mister Dobby had said about expecting Malfoy tomorrow with a group of friends.  
  
“No.” Malfoy shook his head slightly. “I’m not.”  
  
His gaze roved over Harry’s face and body as if drinking him in. “I came back a day early-”  
  
“I would not have come-” Harry said at the same time. They smiled at each other before lapsing into silence. “I’m here with Hagrid and Maxime,” Harry said.  
  
Malfoy nodded as if he already knew that. “Are you having a pleasant trip?”  
  
“Very pleasant,” Harry said, feeling very awkward. “Tomorrow we go to Salisbury.”  
  
“Tomorrow?” Malfoy asked. His shoulders slumped a little. “Are you staying at Lambton?”  
  
Nodding, Harry said, “Yes: at the Rose and Crown.” They were silent again. Harry broke first, whispering, “I’m so sorry to intrude. They said the house was open for visitors. I had no idea…” He trailed off as Malfoy smiled at him.  
  
“May I see you back to the village?”  
  
“No,” Harry said quickly, wanting to think. “I’m fond of walking,” he added when he saw how Malfoy’s face had fallen.  
  
“Yes, I know,” Malfoy said, smiling again. Harry didn’t know if he meant to walk with him, but he was so embarrassed that he bowed his head and said goodbye before hurrying off. He didn’t look back, but Harry was sure he felt Malfoy’s eyes on him for a long time.  
  
  
Harry spent a long time walking back towards the town. He needed to think and the fresh air and walk helped him make sense of his thoughts. When Harry got back to the Rose and Crown, Maxime and Hagrid were in the dining area talking animatedly with each other. As Harry approached, Maxime noticed him and smiled widely. “We’ve just met Mister Malfoy.”  
  
Harry glanced at Hagrid, who nodded. “Ask’d us t’dine with him and his cousins tomorrow. He was very civil.”  
  
“Not at all like you painted him, ‘Arry,” Maxime said, giving Harry a disapproving look. Harry nodded, knowing that he had been completely wrong about the man. “There is something pleasant about his mouth when he speaks,” Maxime continued, and Harry silently agreed.  
  
“You don’t mind delayin’ our trip another day, do yer?” Hagrid asked with a fond look at his wife. Harry shook his head, sinking into a seat with his mind whirring.  


 

  
~~*~~

  
  
“Mister Potter!” the woman with the pug nose and black hair cried happily as Harry, Hagrid and Maxime entered the same room with the piano that Harry had stumbled upon yesterday. Malfoy smiled widely at them and the dark haired man who had been with him yesterday moved forward.  
  
“My cousins: Miss Pansy Parkinson and her brother Mister Patrick Parkinson,” Malfoy said, coming forward to stand beside Pansy.  
  
“Draco has told me so much about you, I feel as if we are friends already,” Pansy said. Harry, shocked, turned to look at Malfoy. His cheeks were turning pink.  
  
Harry couldn’t take his eyes off Malfoy. They looked at each other for a while before Hagrid cleared his throat. Malfoy blinked and Harry caught the knowing look Hagrid was shooting him - the same one Pansy was giving Malfoy.  
  
“Mister Hagrid, are you fond of fishing?” Malfoy asked, his voice calm.  
  
“I am.”  
  
“Would you accompany Patrick to my lake this afternoon? Its occupants have been left in peace too long.”  
  
Harry grinned as Pansy rolled her eyes. "You are welcome to stay indoors with me and your aunt, Mister Harry," Pansy offered.  
  
"As I find fishing a tedious activity, I would be happy to spend the afternoon with you, Miss Parkinson," Harry replied.  
  
Just then a door opened. Mister Dobby walked in and bowed. "Lunch is served."  
  
Harry was grateful for the lapse in conversation as he and everyone else followed Mister Dobby into the dining room. The meal was a grand feast laid on the table and everyone sat helping themselves to cheeses, bread, ham and the other delights offered.

 

  
~~*~~

  
  
Malfoy seemed reluctant to leave Harry with Pansy, but when Patrick tugged on his elbow Malfoy bowed and the two men left with Hagrid in their wake. Pansy watched them go before she asked, "How about a nice game of bridge?"  
  
She dealt out the cards as Harry and Maxime seated themselves. "Do you play the piano, Madam?" Pansy asked Maxime as they each picked up their hand.  
  
"I play ev'ry chance I get at 'ome."  
  
"She plays very well," Harry said, adding, "I'd be delighted to hear you play Miss Parkinson."  
  
Pansy flushed, "If you're lucky, Mister Potter, I might talk your aunt into a duet."  
  
Smiling, Harry looked down at his cards. Pansy seemed to like him and Harry knew that her and Patrick's opinions mattered to Malfoy. He did his best to be as conversational as Pansy was, but she was out-talking both Harry and Maxime.  
  
When their game had finished, Maxime having won in the end, Harry said, "Shall we take a turn about the grounds?"  
  
"That sounds delightful," Pansy said after Maxime voiced her agreement. Harry held out an arm for each woman as they made their way outside and took a slow walk through the grounds. Pansy pointed out various places that held memories from her childhood.  
  
"That's the tree Draco fell out of when he was twelve. He was rescuing my doll. Patrick had hidden her up there for some reason or another." Pansy laughed. "Uncle Lucius was so angry."  
  
"What was he like?" Harry asked, curious as to how Draco had grown up.  
  
"He was a good man. Took Blaise Zabini in when his father died." Pansy’s voice shook slightly as she spoke Blaise's name, but Harry showed no signs of having noticed. "He loved Draco dearly, and Draco was devastated when his father died."  
  
Harry nodded. He could understand that. "What about his mother?"  
  
"Lady Narcissa likes to preserve the distinction of rank. She loves her son but would see him married by now to someone of her choosing. Draco is stubborn and difficult and…" Pansy trailed off.  
  
Looking up, Harry saw Malfoy, Patrick and Hagrid walking up a hill with fishing rods slung over their shoulders. Maxime let go of Harry to take Hagrid's arm and Pansy let go of his other arm to join her brother. Malfoy walked forward and stopped a few feet from Harry. "We've just been admiring your grounds," Harry said to Malfoy, who grinned as he glanced out over the expanse of grass and trees.  
  
"I do love the greenery." Malfoy said then he turned to Harry, "Would you like a tour?"  
  
"I'd be delighted. Miss Parkinson has offered some insights," Harry said cheekily.  
  
"Whatever she said is untrue, I can assure of that." Malfoy laughed loudly when Pansy turned her nose up at him. Harry couldn't help but admire his features as they lit up with joy.

 

  
~~*~~

  
Malfoy insisted on seeing them back to the Rose and Crown, and when Harry entered the main entrance a maid handed him a letter. It was from Hermione. Pleased, Harry wanted to read it immediately. He led the way to his room and left Hagrid, Maxime and Malfoy in the parlour as he went into the bedroom to read in private.  
  
Reading the letter, Harry couldn’t believe the news. He felt sick, his good mood quickly turned sour, and he read the words again. He did not want them to be true but knew he had to tell Hagrid that his family needed his help. Harry stepped into the parlour and swallowed heavily when he saw Malfoy there.  
  
“Ginny has run away. With Blaise Zabini.” Harry choked back tears as realisation dawned, and he knew that any chance he may have had with Malfoy was gone. He, along with his adopted siblings, were ruined for marriage because of Ginny running off with Zabini they would be always be associated with that shame. Especially to man as esteemed as Malfoy. “They have gone Lord knows where. She has no money, no connections. I fear she is lost forever.”  
  
Malfoy stood and came close to Harry, his hand clenched as though he wished to comfort Harry but knew he could not. “This is my fault,” Malfoy said gravely.  
  
“No,” Harry argued. “It is my fault. I might have prevented this by being open about Zabini with my family.”  
  
Hagrid stood, “Has anythin’ been done to recover ‘er?”  
  
“Arthur has gone to London. But I haven’t the smallest hope.” Harry coughed to cover his voice cracking. Malfoy eyed him for minute before stepping away.  
  
“I will leave you.” He bowed his head. Harry watched Malfoy walk out of the room and probably his life. When the door shut, Hagrid embraced Harry. Maxime began to organise things so Harry could go with Hagrid and Maxine to London to meet up with Arthur. And try to find Ginny.

 

  
~~*~~

  
It had been a week since Arthur had come home, and there was no news about Ginny and Zabini. Then a letter came from Hagrid, saying that Arthur needed to pay Zabini a commission one hundred galleons a year for him to marry Ginny, which Arthur easily agreed to.  
  
Hermione and Harry spoke of how Hagrid would have had to pay a large sum for Zabini to even consider marriage, and they assumed it would have had to have been nearly five thousand galleons. Luckily, they supposed, Hagrid and Maxime had no children of their own and a successful business that they were wealthy enough to pay it, especially considering that Arthur would never be able to pay them back.  
  
The wedding took place without one of the Weasleys present. Ginny and her new husband arrived at The Burrow a few days later. Harry was feeling particularly sullen and wanted nothing to do with Zabini, knowing how treacherous he was and how he’d likely gamble away their money. Judging by how Ginny was speaking of her husband and their wedding, she’d no idea, or care, of the shame she’d caused for her siblings.  
  
Harry tuned back into the conversation just in time to hear Ginny say, “-or I would've had to ask Mister Malfoy.”  
  
“Malfoy?” Harry gasped.  
  
“Whoops,” Ginny giggled as she sipped wine. “I forgot! I shouldn’t have said a word.”  
  
“Malfoy was at your wedding?” Harry enquired.  
  
Ginny frowned at him. “He was the one that found us and paid Blaise’s commission. Told me not to tell.”  
  
“Malfoy?” Harry said again. His mind whirring, her realized that his family was not indebted to Hagrid after all, that Malfoy had paid the bribe, leaving Arthur to have to only pay a sum of one hundred galleons a year to Zabini as a commission.  
  
“Stop it, Harry,” Ginny hissed, before turning to Molly and showing off her ring again. Harry sat back and let out a long breath as he absorbed what Ginny had told him. Malfoy had found Ginny, he’d paid Zabini’s commission, and Harry had no idea why.  
  
The rest of the day went by in a daze. Harry didn’t speak to Zabini and hardly even looked at him. Zabini quickly stopped trying to talk to Harry, and thankfully the rest of the family was too busy to notice the tension between them.

 

 

 

~~*~~

  
  
  
  
The following afternoon, Harry, Hermione, Molly and Ron went into town. They were walking through the streets when the butcher came up to them. “Did you hear the news, madam? Mister Nott is returning. He is expected tomorrow.”  
  
Molly shot a glance at Hermione. “Tomorrow?” she asked, and then lifted her nose in the air. “Not that I care. Mister Nott is nothing to us, and I’m sure I never want to see him again.” Molly paused. “Is it quite certain he’s coming?”  
  
The butcher nodded. “Yes, Madam, and I believe he’s alone.” Harry felt a wave of disappointment wash over him; Theodore would be alone, therefore Malfoy wouldn’t be with him. He glanced at Hermione as Molly and Ron walked off.  
  
“It’s quite alright Harry,” Hermione said softly as they hurried after Molly and Ron. “I’m not afraid for myself, but I dread other people’s remarks.” Hermione walked faster, making sure Harry didn’t have time to say anything. He kept his mouth shut as he ran to her side, hooking his arm through hers as they made their way back home.

 

  
~~*~~

  
It had been two days since they’d been told Theodore was back in town and none of them had seen him. Harry, Hermione and Percy were sitting in the drawing room with Molly when Ron came bursting through the door. “He’s here. Nott.”  
  
“Theodore Nott?” Molly said excitedly, with a glance at Hermione.  
  
“There’s someone with him,” Ron continued. Harry glanced at the window that Ron was looking through. “Mister Whatshisname, the pompous one.”  
  
“Malfoy?” Harry barked out as he rushed to the window. He was just in time to see Malfoy and Theodore walk up the steps to their front door. They - Harry, Hermione, Molly, Percy and Ron - quickly organised themselves so they were sitting finely when Malfoy and Theodore entered the room behind the housekeeper.  
  
As the two men stood in the doorway, Molly started talking, but Harry wasn’t listening - he was looking over Malfoy. Harry viewed him in a different light: this was the man who had saved his family from ruin, and now he was here with Theodore. Hope was blooming in Harry’s chest.  
  
“Will you stay long?” Molly asked.  
  
“Just a few weeks. For the shooting,” Theodore said, his eyes moving to Hermione and back to Molly as she spoke.  
  
“When you've killed all your own birds, I beg you will come here and shoot as many as you please.” Molly said.  
  
“Excellent,” Theodore said.  
  
There were a few moments of silence and Harry asked, “Are you well, Mister Malfoy?”  
  
“Quite well, thank you.”  
  
“I hope the weather stays well for your sport,” Harry offered.  
  
Malfoy didn’t meet Harry’s eyes as he said, “I return to town tomorrow.”  
  
“So soon?” Harry whispered, but he didn’t think anybody heard him. Theodore excused himself abruptly and left. Malfoy glanced about in surprise before bowing his head.  
  
“Excuse me,” Malfoy said before he, too, left.  
  
Harry sat by Hermione and she smiled at him. “I’m glad that’s over,” she breathed. “Now we can meet as indifferent acquaintances.”  
  
“Oh yes,” Harry said mockingly.  
  
“You cannot think me so weak as to be in danger now,” Hermione huffed.  
  
With a smile, Harry said honestly, “You are in great danger of making him as much in love with you as ever.”  
  
Hermione flushed and smoothed out her dress before saying lightly, “I’m sorry he came with Mister Malfoy.”  
  
“Don’t say that,” Harry whispered.  
  
Frowning, Hermione said, “Why ever not?”  
  
He looked into her eyes and sighed. “Hermione, I’ve been so blind.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
Harry did not have an opportunity to answer, for Ron called out, “He’s back, he’s come again,” then Theodore was in the doorway.  
  
He took his hat from his hand and held it tightly in his hands. “I know this is all very untoward, but I would like to request the privilege of speaking to Miss Granger. Alone.” Theodore nodded once after he’d spoken.  
  
There was a pause before Molly said, “Everyone to the kitchen. Except you, Hermione dear, of course.” Molly pressed a kiss to Hermione’s cheek as everyone filed out the room. Harry turned back once to give Hermione a reassuring smile before the door closed. Molly, Ron and Percy pressed their ears against it, listening in as always, but Harry turned and made his way outside. He was happy for Hermione, but couldn’t help but feel sorry for himself.  
  
Sighing, Harry looked at the copse of trees that was on the edge of the property, knowing that this morning would be the last time he’d see Draco Malfoy. The man had hardly looked at Harry, and despite him having a hand in reuniting Theodore and Hermione, Malfoy seemed to want nothing to do with Harry. And as much as Harry hated to admit it, that had hurt.  
  
The sound of hooves drew Harry from his melancholy, and he made his way into the house to see that Theodore had gone and the family was in the entrance admitting a regal, terse looking woman. Harry recognised her from his visit, earlier in the year, when he went to Sussex to see some old friends. The same trip when Mister Malfoy had proposed. “Lady Narcissa,” Harry said quickly and bowed, seeing the confused look on his family’s faces.  
  
“The rest of your family, I presume,” Lady Narcissa said disdainfully, her blonde locks pulled into a fierce but elegant bun. She dismissed Molly as soon as she started to speak and turned to Harry. “I need to speak to Mister Harry Potter alone. As a matter of urgency.”  
  
Harry swallowed and shared a glance with Hermione before leading Lady Narcissa into the drawing room. As he closed the door he knew his family would be listening in on the other side. “You can be at no loss to understand why I am here.”  
  
Feigning ignorance, Harry said calmly, “I cannot account for this honour at all.”  
  
Lady Narcissa’s eyes narrowed, and Harry knew he was playing a dangerous game. “I warn you, I am not to be trifled with,” she snapped before taking a deep breath as if to steady herself. “A most alarming report has reached me.” She paused as if to gauge Harry’s reaction, and when he gave none, Lady Narcissa huffed. “That you intend to be united with my son, Draco. I know this to be a falsehood. But supposing it possible, I instantly set off to make my sentiments known.” Lady Narcissa raised her chin, daring Harry to defy her.  
  
Offended, Harry said, “If you believed it possible, I wonder that you came so far.”  
  
“To hear it contradicted,” Lady Narcissa snapped.  
  
With a soft snort, Harry said, “Your coming can be seen more as a confirmation of the rumour. If such a report exists.”  
  
Lady Narcissa’s jaw clenched briefly. “ _lf?_  You pretend to be ignorant of it?”  
  
“I have never heard of it,” Harry lied.  
  
“Can you declare there is no foundation for it?”  
  
Feeling angry, Harry growled, “I do not pretend to possess equal frankness with your Ladyship. You may ask a question which I may choose not to answer.”  
  
“Has my son made you an offer of marriage?” Lady Narcissa asked brusquely.  
  
Harry raised his chin and said clearly, “Your Ladyship has declared it to be impossible.”  
  
“Draco is engaged to Miss Daphne Greengrass.” Lady Narcissa smirked triumphantly. “Now what have you to say?”  
  
“If that is the case, you cannot suppose he would make an offer to me,” Harry said, losing his patience.  
  
Lady Narcissa’s beautiful face contorted in her anger. “Selfish boy. This union has been planned since their infancy. Do you think it can be prevented by a man of inferior birth, whose own adopted sister's elopement resulted in a scandalously patched-up marriage, only achieved at the expense of your uncle?” Lady Narcissa paused before sneering, “Heaven and Earth! Tell me once and for all, are you engaged to him?”  
  
“I am not,” Harry admitted painfully, but honestly.  
  
Satisfied, Lady Narcissa nodded once. “Will you promise never to enter into such an engagement?”  
  
“I will not.” Harry said harshly. He clenched his jaw for a moment before saying abruptly, “You have insulted me in every possible way and can now have nothing further to say. I must ask you to leave immediately. Good day.” He stalked to the door and flung it open, not surprised to see his family on the other side step quickly back as Lady Narcissa strode forwards.  
  
“I have never been thus treated in my entire life!” Lady Narcissa exclaimed as she left. The door closed firmly behind her, and as the hooves of her horses thundered away in the distance the Weasleys and Hermione stared at Harry.  
  
“What is going on?” Arthur asked as he came out of his study opposite the drawing room.  
  
Harry swallowed. “Just a small misunderstanding,” he said, and made his way past them. They tried to stop him and Harry shouted, “For once in your life leave me alone!”

 

  
~~*~~

  
Harry didn’t sleep well. Eventually, he rose just as the sun was dawning and decided to take a walk to clear his head. He shrugged on a loose shirt and tugged his trousers and boots on before heading outside. He walked for about half an hour, meandering around the grounds.  
  
Then, in the distance, he saw a figure striding towards him. Blond hair gleamed in the sunlight. Harry felt his heart skip a beat and smiled as Malfoy stopped before him. “I couldn’t sleep,” Harry said quietly.  
  
“Nor I,” Malfoy admitted. “My mother…”  
  
With a wry laugh, Harry said, “Yes, she was here.”  
  
Taking a step closer to Harry, Malfoy asked, “How can I ever make amends for such behaviour?”  
  
“After what you've done for Ginny and, I suspect, for Hermione, it is I who should be making amends,” Harry said.  
  
Malfoy licked his lips and tilted his head, looking at Harry sincerely. “You must know. Surely you must know it was all for you.”  
  
Not knowing what to say, Harry took a deep breath. Malfoy was already speaking again.  
  
“You are too generous to trifle with me. What you said to my mother yesterday has taught me to hope as I'd scarcely allowed myself before. If your feelings are still what they were, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes have not changed. But one word from you will silence me for ever.”  
  
Malfoy came closer still, his gaze intense as he stared at Harry. “lf, however, your feelings have changed, I would tell you: you have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love… I love... I love you.” Malfoy stumbled with the sincerity of his words, and Harry felt his heart skip a beat . “I wish never to be parted from you from this day on,” Malfoy finished. His face was unguarded, and Harry smiled.  
  
“Well, then.” Harry said. He took hold of Malfoy’s hand and raised it to his lips. He pressed a kiss to the icy knuckles. “Your hands are cold.”  
  
Malfoy smiled and cupped Harry’s cheek with his free hand, leaning down to rest their foreheads together. Harry closed his eyes and breathed in Malfoy’s scent, the feeling of his forehead against Harry’s, the soft strands of his hair against Harry’s skin. Harry clenched his hand around Malfoy’s and he let out a soft laugh. He’d never been so happy.  


 

~~*~~

  
  
Harry was in his shirtsleeves, sitting on the grass before the house. He shivered a little in the cold night air, but smiled warmly at his husband as Draco draped a heavy coat around his shoulders. Draco sat before Harry and reached out a hand to smooth his hair away from his face, “How are you this evening, my dear?”  
  
“Very well.” Harry frowned. “Only I wish you would not call me ‘my dear’.”  
  
“Why?” Draco demanded.  
  
Chuckling, Harry said, “It’s what Arthur always calls Molly when he’s cross about something.”  
  
“Ah.” Draco’s hand slid down to Harry’s neck, his fingers playing with the strands there as he asked, “What endearments am I allowed?”  
  
Pretending deep thought, Harry pursed his lips. “Let me think, ‘Harry’ for everyday use. ‘My darling’ for Sundays. And… ‘My Prince’: only on  _very_  special occasions.” A smile broke out across Draco’s face and he let out a bark of laughter.  
  
“Of course. And what shall I call you when I’m cross?” Draco asked. “Mister Malfoy?”  
  
“No,” Harry said firmly, then softened his tone. “You may only call me Mister Malfoy when you are completely, perfectly and incandescently happy.” They chuckled together and Draco moved his hand from Harry’s neck to his rest on his chest, feeling Harry’s heartbeat.  
  
“And how are you this evening, Mister Malfoy?” Draco asked quietly, leaning in to press a kiss to Harry’s forehead. “Mister Malfoy,” he whispered again as he kissed Harry’s cheek. “Mister Malfoy.” A kiss to the other cheek. “Mister Malfoy.” Draco kissed Harry’s lips, and Harry kissed him back. Draco pressed a kiss to his neck, whispering, “Mister Malfoy,” after each one.

 

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